Last week, the fucking Government finally announced open borders with most of Europe and I promptly went online to book a flight to good, old Engerland. 'tis luverly there in summer and I shall putter around the south, taking in the beautiful, rolling landscapes that inspired everything from Lord of the Rings to Winnie the Pooh.
Below is my itinerary. Rental car and hotels have already been booked. I'm not sure its my stinginess or my imagination, but I think the hotel prices have dropped somewhat due to the Corona virus; an average price of £47 per night is not bad for southern Engand in summer time. I'm also going to return to Stonehenge, just to see it once - fucking ONCE - without having the view blocked by a gazillion Asians with cams on sticks.
I've also never done the actual city of Bury St. Edmund, so I'm looking forward to that. Add an afternoon in Canterbury to the list. In addition, Winchester, Bath and High Wycombe are completely new to me, so merit further investigation.
Wed 15 Oslo - Gatwick - Bury
Thu 16 Bury - Framlingham - Bury
Fri 17 Bury - Lavenham - Gatwick
Sat 18 Gatwick - Canterbury - Chilham
Sun 19 Chilham - Richborough - Dover
Mon 20 Dover - Battle Village - Lewes - Winchester
Tue 21 Winchester - Postbridge
Wed 22 Postbridge - Bath
Thu 23 Bath
Fri 24 Bath - Leamington Spa
Sat 25 Leamington Spa - High Wycombe
Sun 26 High Wycombe
Mon 27 High Wycombe - Stonehenge - Salisbury
Tue 28 Salisbury - Crawley
Wed 29 Crawley - Gatwick
Showing posts with label good stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good stuff. Show all posts
Sunday, July 12, 2020
Monday, December 23, 2019
Thursday, May 10, 2018
Californication: Coming to Norway
Earlier today, my California crew touched down at Oslo Airport. Yes, at long last I have lured people to MY country. Their first impression of Norwegian culture was having a meal at a gas station, so maybe this didn't get off to a stellar start, but... anyways, we've been allowed the use of an apartment partially owned by my old friend Heidi and we'll stay in Oslo till Saturday, then we're off to explore the country.
In Oslo, we were met by Heidi's hubby Hassi, who took us on a brief sightseeing trip around town. We started off with a walk down by the harbor, which contains City Hall, a large square and a big apartment complex/restaurant area known as Aker Brygge.
Statue of the Norwegian/Danish naval commander Peter Wessel Tordenskiold. In 1716 he led a daring attack on a fleet of Swedish transport ships and sunk them and most of the Swedish artillery, which was on the ships, headed for Oslo. He's one of the greatest military heroes in Norwegian history and well worth a statue; this one is in the harbor in Oslo.
After a good walk by the harbor, we drove to the Opera House, where Hassi parked illegally so we could walk up the roof for ten minutes. Hugely expensive, a fucking waste of space and money... but not too shabby to look at. An average opera ticket is subsidized to the tune of something like 75-100 USD.
I shot this video from the roof. Most people just walk up there and take pictures, but of course some assholes have to break the rules and skate, or they bring huge fucking ghettoblasters to pump out African gangsta hip hop, cuz lordy knows that's what all Norwegians crave on the roof of the Opera House one fine evening in May.
Cranes fill the evening skies. There's a shitload of construction going on in that city.
This photo was taken shortly before 10PM in the evening from the Ekeberg restaurant. One of the very few advantages of living this far north are the long, light summer nights.
Video of the same view.
In Oslo, we were met by Heidi's hubby Hassi, who took us on a brief sightseeing trip around town. We started off with a walk down by the harbor, which contains City Hall, a large square and a big apartment complex/restaurant area known as Aker Brygge.
Statue of the Norwegian/Danish naval commander Peter Wessel Tordenskiold. In 1716 he led a daring attack on a fleet of Swedish transport ships and sunk them and most of the Swedish artillery, which was on the ships, headed for Oslo. He's one of the greatest military heroes in Norwegian history and well worth a statue; this one is in the harbor in Oslo.
After a good walk by the harbor, we drove to the Opera House, where Hassi parked illegally so we could walk up the roof for ten minutes. Hugely expensive, a fucking waste of space and money... but not too shabby to look at. An average opera ticket is subsidized to the tune of something like 75-100 USD.
I shot this video from the roof. Most people just walk up there and take pictures, but of course some assholes have to break the rules and skate, or they bring huge fucking ghettoblasters to pump out African gangsta hip hop, cuz lordy knows that's what all Norwegians crave on the roof of the Opera House one fine evening in May.
Cranes fill the evening skies. There's a shitload of construction going on in that city.
This photo was taken shortly before 10PM in the evening from the Ekeberg restaurant. One of the very few advantages of living this far north are the long, light summer nights.
Video of the same view.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Friday, December 19, 2014
View from my office
A quick shot I took from the window of my office earlier this year. Think it came out ok.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Some pics from this summer
These pics were taken on a drive I had in early September this year... they are posted mainly to remind myself what a lovely place Norway can be in summer, as opposed to the grey/white sludge of snow and ice we're in for now and the next 4-5 months. I hate winter with every fibre of my soul.
Lovely views at a waterfall a few miles to the northwest of here. I believe the place is called Høla.
Looking upstream.
Some miles further up the road with views towards the south-western parts of Valdres.
Lovely views at a waterfall a few miles to the northwest of here. I believe the place is called Høla.
Looking upstream.
Some miles further up the road with views towards the south-western parts of Valdres.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Some pics from Monday
Some pics I took of lake Randsfjorden when I drove home to Dokka Monday. I gotta say, it's really nice up here in the summer.
It was blowing pretty hard, so the waves were a bit choppy.
On the opposite side, the sun was playing hide and seek through the clouds.
It was blowing pretty hard, so the waves were a bit choppy.
On the opposite side, the sun was playing hide and seek through the clouds.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Pics from Denmark
I had a quick, aborted trip to Krautland earlier this week (more about that in a later post) and I took some pics on the way there, driving through Denmark.
Lovely skies in the evening.
Notice the cloud pattern, it's almost like a heavenly Giant's Causeway.
Ish phunnee. ("Fart" means speed in the Scandiavian languages.)
Here's why I love the Danes and hold them as my favoritestest people in the world (alongside the Americans and the British): They have a smiley system for roadworks. This one started with a sad smiley at 10 km and ended with a happy face and "god tur" (have a good trip).
Lovely skies in the evening.
Notice the cloud pattern, it's almost like a heavenly Giant's Causeway.
Ish phunnee. ("Fart" means speed in the Scandiavian languages.)
Here's why I love the Danes and hold them as my favoritestest people in the world (alongside the Americans and the British): They have a smiley system for roadworks. This one started with a sad smiley at 10 km and ended with a happy face and "god tur" (have a good trip).
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Summer evening on the lake
Last Friday, the school had its summer party for teachers and various school staff. We boarded a small boat, which I think had previously been used as a ferry and set out across Randsfjorden, which is the 4th largest lake in Norway. We made landfall for less than an hour and then went back again. I stuffed face and had a pleasant evening and took a shitload of pictures; some of them even made it on here.
It was a grand time to be out on the water.
The lake is dotted with cabins all around. And that honeylike Nordic light.
As we were sailing back, the full moon rose behind us. T'was magic, people.
A typical Norwegian summer night. I think the picture was taken shortly before midnight.
It was a grand time to be out on the water.
The lake is dotted with cabins all around. And that honeylike Nordic light.
As we were sailing back, the full moon rose behind us. T'was magic, people.
A typical Norwegian summer night. I think the picture was taken shortly before midnight.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Kidney stones - aka "my balls are blue"
I've had kidney stones before, something like 7-8 years back - and I swear it hurts like hell. I started feeling some symptoms while still in the air over the US, but when I finally got to my hotel there was no mistaking it anymore. So I called the front desk and they called 911 for me.
Now, just like in a movie it was a fire truck that rolled up five minutes later. The two guys in it put me on a stretcher and asked me some questions, the answers to which they reported in to the hospital while we were en route. I was curious and asked about the combination of fire dept and what in Norway is an ambulance service, and they told me this could vary from place to place, but that in most of southern California it was a fire thing. They apparently had fire fighting equipment in their truck too.
Now, this may be because I'm a complete ignoramus when it comes to most technical stuff, but when I was rolled in to the hospital they did something to my stretcher which caused it to transform into a wheelchair. I was flabbergasted, and for a brief while I was more inclined to go "wheeeeee" than to moan about my pain. I don't know if this is now standard stuff even in Norwegian hospitals, but I'm old enough that I find such technology almost inseparable from magic, or indeed like being in a Transformers movie. Except there was no Megan Fox. Meh.
I spent the next few hours in the very good and competent care of the Sharp Grossmont hospital in La Mesa. They gave me some painkillers on IV, asked tons of questions about medical history, medication etc. A guy came to take some administrative details, including insurance, and I had several conversations with the yanks working there; all very nice people doing important jobs.
When the doctor came he wanted to check for hernia or testicular problems, so he put on some gloves and "went to town" down there. I told him "they'd dropped", but he checked anyway.
Long story short, I got a CT-scan which showed the stone had already passed and was now resting peacefully in my spacious bladder instead of brutally forcing its way down the all too narrow tubes leading down from the kidneys. If this isn't a designing fault proving the existence of a malevolent God, I don't know what is. The doc told me I had elevated kidney values and gave me some papers to take home to my Norwegian primary physician, as he couldn't be certain whether it was caused by the stone or if it was a permanent thing.
I was given a prescription drug for any pain that might be caused by the stone making its way down into the penis (yet another design fault!) and sent on my merry way back to the motel in a taxi.
Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say that getting a kidney stone was a good thing, no more than losing my passport in December. But in having this misfortune I at least got a useful glimpse into a part of American society most tourists (fortunately) won't get to witness. I encountered top professionals from the emergency responders to the nurses to the doctor. Everybody was polite, friendly and just plain nice.
I talked winter olympics with the nurses and confirmed that the number one reason why people lived in SoCal was the sweet, sweet climate. Engaging in a little banter, cracking jokes and just talking to Americans is always one of my favorite things to do while over here, and the good people at the ER in Grossmont were no exception. A heartfelt thanks to them all!
Now, just like in a movie it was a fire truck that rolled up five minutes later. The two guys in it put me on a stretcher and asked me some questions, the answers to which they reported in to the hospital while we were en route. I was curious and asked about the combination of fire dept and what in Norway is an ambulance service, and they told me this could vary from place to place, but that in most of southern California it was a fire thing. They apparently had fire fighting equipment in their truck too.
Now, this may be because I'm a complete ignoramus when it comes to most technical stuff, but when I was rolled in to the hospital they did something to my stretcher which caused it to transform into a wheelchair. I was flabbergasted, and for a brief while I was more inclined to go "wheeeeee" than to moan about my pain. I don't know if this is now standard stuff even in Norwegian hospitals, but I'm old enough that I find such technology almost inseparable from magic, or indeed like being in a Transformers movie. Except there was no Megan Fox. Meh.
I spent the next few hours in the very good and competent care of the Sharp Grossmont hospital in La Mesa. They gave me some painkillers on IV, asked tons of questions about medical history, medication etc. A guy came to take some administrative details, including insurance, and I had several conversations with the yanks working there; all very nice people doing important jobs.
When the doctor came he wanted to check for hernia or testicular problems, so he put on some gloves and "went to town" down there. I told him "they'd dropped", but he checked anyway.
Long story short, I got a CT-scan which showed the stone had already passed and was now resting peacefully in my spacious bladder instead of brutally forcing its way down the all too narrow tubes leading down from the kidneys. If this isn't a designing fault proving the existence of a malevolent God, I don't know what is. The doc told me I had elevated kidney values and gave me some papers to take home to my Norwegian primary physician, as he couldn't be certain whether it was caused by the stone or if it was a permanent thing.
I was given a prescription drug for any pain that might be caused by the stone making its way down into the penis (yet another design fault!) and sent on my merry way back to the motel in a taxi.
Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say that getting a kidney stone was a good thing, no more than losing my passport in December. But in having this misfortune I at least got a useful glimpse into a part of American society most tourists (fortunately) won't get to witness. I encountered top professionals from the emergency responders to the nurses to the doctor. Everybody was polite, friendly and just plain nice.
I talked winter olympics with the nurses and confirmed that the number one reason why people lived in SoCal was the sweet, sweet climate. Engaging in a little banter, cracking jokes and just talking to Americans is always one of my favorite things to do while over here, and the good people at the ER in Grossmont were no exception. A heartfelt thanks to them all!
Monday, December 23, 2013
Friday, December 20, 2013
Sam Houston Museum
My first story from this year's trip to the US is from the Sam Houston museum in Huntsville, Texas. I've posted earlier about the huge statue of him that stands right by the side of the interstate, and how interesting he was as a politician and statseman, but I can confirm that a deeper look makes the man even more colorful.
Houston is indeed one of the greatest statesmen America has ever fostered, and in addition he has that hint of lovable rogue about him that I like in a politician. He left school after just a few months and only worked on the family farm for a short time, before running off at age 16 to join the Cherokees. He stayed with them for around two years and was adopted by a chief and learned the language. He acquired the nickname "The Raven".
Later, he started a school for about half a year - something quite brazen, considering he could barely write and do maths himself. Around 20 he finally joined the army to fight against the British in the War of 1812. In a fit of maternal love his mother is reported to have said that she'd rather see all her sons placed in a grave than have one of them value his life above that of honor. The heart swells at the thought.
During the war he was injured, but made such an impression that he caught the eye of general, later president, Andrew Jackson. The two struck up a friendship that lasted through their lifetimes. Houston had a failed marriage that lasted only three months and then was accused of slander by a Congressman. Houston physically beat the politician (again an endearable trait) and the subsequent trial, in which he was found guilty, provided him with a national audience and ended in his popularity increasing.
Much followed, much, much more than I can reasonably fit in here. He was elected governor of Tennessee, but left office to live with the injuns again. This time he was given the nickname of "the big drunk" by them, on account of his alcohol consumption. In addition he was made a member of the Cherokee nation and also married a native woman.
Finally, Houston ended up in Texas. Here, he fell in love with the land and fought for independence from Mexico. He was elected president of the new, independent Republic, but always favored inclusion in the United States. When that goal was finally obtained some ten years later, he was elected Texas' first Senator, but was recalled when he voted against the Kansas-Nebraska act. Houston was also governor for a while, but was kicked out because he refused to take an oath of allegiance to the Confederacy.
As a Senator, he bravely stood on principle on numerous occasions and claimed the role of a "national politician", rather than a sectional one, as was so common not just in the south in those days. Indeed, special interests like geography continue to play an oversized part in US (and Norwegian!) politics.
Finally, a little story about his views on slavery. While not a principled opponent of the abominable practice in any way, he treated his slaves much better than most. As with so many other farmers he would sometimes rent out his slaves for other labor when they were not required on the farm, but unlike others he let them keep the proceeds.
It seems that he struck up a genuine friendship with his main slave, Joshua, who he encouraged to learn to read and write (which was banned at the time) and who took his name - not an uncommon thing back then. After the Civil War, when Houston was dead and his wife and children were in economic need, a freed Joshua offered to give them his life savings of 2,000 dollars - quite a huge sum of money at the time. The widow turned down the money, but I find the gesture moving. I don't know about y'all, but I just don't think I would make that kind of offer to people I viewed as my oppressors.
In later years, Joshua became a respected member of the Huntsville community and actually served as an alderman during Reconstruction. American history has quite a few of these little stories, which is one reason why I loooove traveling around, visiting museums and learning about this stuff.
Sadly, I don't have a single photo from Huntsville, as my camera decided to die on me (for now at least), but you can read more about Sam Houston and view pictures and more stories about him on the museum's webpage.
Houston is indeed one of the greatest statesmen America has ever fostered, and in addition he has that hint of lovable rogue about him that I like in a politician. He left school after just a few months and only worked on the family farm for a short time, before running off at age 16 to join the Cherokees. He stayed with them for around two years and was adopted by a chief and learned the language. He acquired the nickname "The Raven".
Later, he started a school for about half a year - something quite brazen, considering he could barely write and do maths himself. Around 20 he finally joined the army to fight against the British in the War of 1812. In a fit of maternal love his mother is reported to have said that she'd rather see all her sons placed in a grave than have one of them value his life above that of honor. The heart swells at the thought.
During the war he was injured, but made such an impression that he caught the eye of general, later president, Andrew Jackson. The two struck up a friendship that lasted through their lifetimes. Houston had a failed marriage that lasted only three months and then was accused of slander by a Congressman. Houston physically beat the politician (again an endearable trait) and the subsequent trial, in which he was found guilty, provided him with a national audience and ended in his popularity increasing.
Much followed, much, much more than I can reasonably fit in here. He was elected governor of Tennessee, but left office to live with the injuns again. This time he was given the nickname of "the big drunk" by them, on account of his alcohol consumption. In addition he was made a member of the Cherokee nation and also married a native woman.
Finally, Houston ended up in Texas. Here, he fell in love with the land and fought for independence from Mexico. He was elected president of the new, independent Republic, but always favored inclusion in the United States. When that goal was finally obtained some ten years later, he was elected Texas' first Senator, but was recalled when he voted against the Kansas-Nebraska act. Houston was also governor for a while, but was kicked out because he refused to take an oath of allegiance to the Confederacy.
As a Senator, he bravely stood on principle on numerous occasions and claimed the role of a "national politician", rather than a sectional one, as was so common not just in the south in those days. Indeed, special interests like geography continue to play an oversized part in US (and Norwegian!) politics.
Finally, a little story about his views on slavery. While not a principled opponent of the abominable practice in any way, he treated his slaves much better than most. As with so many other farmers he would sometimes rent out his slaves for other labor when they were not required on the farm, but unlike others he let them keep the proceeds.
It seems that he struck up a genuine friendship with his main slave, Joshua, who he encouraged to learn to read and write (which was banned at the time) and who took his name - not an uncommon thing back then. After the Civil War, when Houston was dead and his wife and children were in economic need, a freed Joshua offered to give them his life savings of 2,000 dollars - quite a huge sum of money at the time. The widow turned down the money, but I find the gesture moving. I don't know about y'all, but I just don't think I would make that kind of offer to people I viewed as my oppressors.
In later years, Joshua became a respected member of the Huntsville community and actually served as an alderman during Reconstruction. American history has quite a few of these little stories, which is one reason why I loooove traveling around, visiting museums and learning about this stuff.
Sadly, I don't have a single photo from Huntsville, as my camera decided to die on me (for now at least), but you can read more about Sam Houston and view pictures and more stories about him on the museum's webpage.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Lone Star State of Mind
Well, I've gone and done it. I've bought a return ticket to Houston and pleaded with my new bosses to let me off from the absofuckinlutely pointless last Friday before Christmas, when nothing happens anyway, so that I now have a grand total of two weeks to travel as I please. Wheeeeee!
So I went and booked a plane ticket and rented a car at the same time (British Airways & Avis), and it actually turned out cheaper than renting with Hertz, where I am a member. Hrmph. So much for their Golden Super Plus Bonus Platinum Gold Stripes and Epaulettes program or whatever it's called now.
In the US, I've booked sweet, sweet, dirt cheap Motel 6 rooms all the way, so I shall be lulled to sleep each night, knowing that my room was likely made by an underpaid Mexican, probably an illegal at that. I shall drive my rental car on wide Interstates, paved over injun burial places and filled up with gas stolen from defenseless third world countries. I shall stuff face on greasy, unhealthy food filled with fat and carbs, grown in the most resource-wasting manner possible and probably given a trip round the world just to let out some more greenhouse gases. And I shall love every minute of it.
My itinerary:
18.12 Norway - Houston, TX
So I went and booked a plane ticket and rented a car at the same time (British Airways & Avis), and it actually turned out cheaper than renting with Hertz, where I am a member. Hrmph. So much for their Golden Super Plus Bonus Platinum Gold Stripes and Epaulettes program or whatever it's called now.
In the US, I've booked sweet, sweet, dirt cheap Motel 6 rooms all the way, so I shall be lulled to sleep each night, knowing that my room was likely made by an underpaid Mexican, probably an illegal at that. I shall drive my rental car on wide Interstates, paved over injun burial places and filled up with gas stolen from defenseless third world countries. I shall stuff face on greasy, unhealthy food filled with fat and carbs, grown in the most resource-wasting manner possible and probably given a trip round the world just to let out some more greenhouse gases. And I shall love every minute of it.
My itinerary:
18.12 Norway - Houston, TX
19.12 Houston. Meeting up with mah local homies, yo.
20.12 Houston - Lafayette, LA. Taking a route down towards the very coastline, south of I-20.
21.12 Lafayette - New Orleans, LA.
22.12 New Orleans - Venice - New Orleans. Going as far as I can go on paved roads down in the delta.
23.12 New Orleans. Exploring more of the architecture and culture of this fine city. Also, Happy Festivus!
24.12 New Orleans - Baton Rouge. Don't laugh, Baton Rouge has some really nice neighborhoods.
25.12 Baton Rouge - Dallas. Might as well use this stupid day for something useful, so I've planned to make the longest trek of the trip by far this day.
26.12 Dallas - Huntsville. Visiting the JFK memorial at the famous Dealy Plazza building, then going to see the Dubbya prez library.
27.12 Huntsville-College Station-Austin. Visting the Sam Houston museum and gravesite in Huntsville, then on to the Bush Sr. prez museum in College Station.
28.12 Austin - San Antonio. Spending most of my time at the LBJ prez museum/library outside Austin.
29.12 San Antonio. Further exploring this very nice city. I understand the lights along the River Walk is a sight to behold this time of year, then also the Alamo and the Governor's Palace and probably the Tower of the Americas too. So much to see and do in this gem of a city.
30.12 San Antonio - Houston. Back to hang with mah crew, yo.
31.12 Houston. Still hanging, yo.
01.01 Houston
- Norway
Friday, August 9, 2013
Edinburgh
Spent Wednesday and Thursday in the wonderful town of Edinburgh. Apart from Prague, I don't think there's a European city that gives me the same sense of happiness and tranquility as this.
The Fringe festival was on, and so the city centre was teeming with people, from the eccentric to the clinically insane. We didn't see any of the many shows on offer and instead walked around the Castle for a little while and then down to Grassmarket and Holyrood. Wednesday evening we went to see the Military Tattoo, which was awesome, although to be completely honest I'd have hoped for a little less peace and love and a little more war and bang-bang.
Thursday I went to see the new Mary, Queen of Scots exhibition at the National Museum of Scotland, while Siri went to shop her greedy little heart out, as is the wont of womenses all over the world. We rounded off our cultural activities by walking around the National Gallery, complaining all the way about the relative lack of Scottish scenery on display. Honestly, when you have real estate like Scotland around you, who the fuck needs to see another Dutch stilleben?
Few cities make me as happy as this. Edinburgh, I heart thee.
The Scott Monument. I still haven't climbed it.
The utter hideousness that is the new Scottish Parliament.
Join the Dark Side. We have cookies!
Some of the sheer insanity that is Edinburgh at fringe time.
At exactly 1PM every day, come hell or high water, this cannon goes off with an almighty boom.
From the exhibit at the Castle, with the Crown Jewels; the infant Mary and her formidable mother, the French noblewoman Mary Guise. She ran Scotland for years, while Mary was off getting a proper Royal education at the French court.
I think I have mentioned before that the ceiling of the Great Hall in Edinburgh Castle (incidentally, the only "original" part still standing) was made from Norwegian timber.
Two old favorites with the tourists - yours truly and Edinburgh Castle.
People taking their places at the Military Tattoo.
The guest of honor that night was some American Lieutenant General. As is custom, he participated in a ceremony in which whisky is drunk and Gaelic is spoken. I think the first is a prerequisite for the second.
A lone piper doing his stuff. It gives me chills just to think about it. I love bagpipes.
From the finale.
The Fringe festival was on, and so the city centre was teeming with people, from the eccentric to the clinically insane. We didn't see any of the many shows on offer and instead walked around the Castle for a little while and then down to Grassmarket and Holyrood. Wednesday evening we went to see the Military Tattoo, which was awesome, although to be completely honest I'd have hoped for a little less peace and love and a little more war and bang-bang.
Thursday I went to see the new Mary, Queen of Scots exhibition at the National Museum of Scotland, while Siri went to shop her greedy little heart out, as is the wont of womenses all over the world. We rounded off our cultural activities by walking around the National Gallery, complaining all the way about the relative lack of Scottish scenery on display. Honestly, when you have real estate like Scotland around you, who the fuck needs to see another Dutch stilleben?
Few cities make me as happy as this. Edinburgh, I heart thee.
The Scott Monument. I still haven't climbed it.
The utter hideousness that is the new Scottish Parliament.
Join the Dark Side. We have cookies!
Some of the sheer insanity that is Edinburgh at fringe time.
At exactly 1PM every day, come hell or high water, this cannon goes off with an almighty boom.
From the exhibit at the Castle, with the Crown Jewels; the infant Mary and her formidable mother, the French noblewoman Mary Guise. She ran Scotland for years, while Mary was off getting a proper Royal education at the French court.
I think I have mentioned before that the ceiling of the Great Hall in Edinburgh Castle (incidentally, the only "original" part still standing) was made from Norwegian timber.
Two old favorites with the tourists - yours truly and Edinburgh Castle.
People taking their places at the Military Tattoo.
The guest of honor that night was some American Lieutenant General. As is custom, he participated in a ceremony in which whisky is drunk and Gaelic is spoken. I think the first is a prerequisite for the second.
A lone piper doing his stuff. It gives me chills just to think about it. I love bagpipes.
From the finale.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Tentative route for Scotland
These past few weeks I've felt an ever increasing rattling in my old traveling bones, so to speak. It gets worse the closer I get to a departure; sounds, sights and especially smells can suddenly take me thousands of miles away. I get this bubbling feeling inside, and sometimes an actual, physical shudder. That's how much I love to travel.
As previously announced, this summer's trip will go to Scotland; possibly with a slight dip down into northern England for the last weekend, that part isn't fully planned yet. For almost the whole trip I shall be accompanied by my oldfriend... uhm, chum...uh... acquaintance, Siri. BUT imma drop her in Edinburgh the last Thursday and then spend an oval weekend in the borders, with the strong possibility of a visit to the actual Flodden Field.
The route as of now...
July 29: Flying from Oslo to Edinburgh, landing in the evening. I'll rent a car and drive to Stirling, panicking over left-hand driving all the way.
July 30: I have hopes of doing Stirling Castle, the Wallace Monument and Bannockburn Visitor Centre this day. The actual Centre doesn't open till next year, but the intermediary one I went to last fall was so interesting I want to go again. If Siri really gets into Stirling Castle, we probably won't have time though. We shall spend the night in quaint little Doune, just up the road from Stirling.
July 31: Planning on seeing Doune Castle in the morning, then drive on up through the Trossachs, possibly with a slight detour south to see Loch Lomond. Then it's over my beloved A-82 and the Rannoch Moor to Glencoe. We'll be passing Bridge of Orchy and Loch Tulla and maybe, just maybe we'll have lunch at the King's House Hotel. We shall spend the night in Fort William.
August 1: In the wee morning we'll have a looksee at the ruins of Inverlochy Castle, and if Siri feels like it, possibly take a quick detour to Treasures of the Earth where she can fill several suitcases with shiny objects and precious gems. I know I wanted to the last time I was there. Then the journey will continue up along Loch Ness to Urquhart Castle, before ending in Inverness for the night.
August 2: This will probably be the longest day of the trip, at least where driving is concerned. I'm thinking about going up from Inverness to Wick the loooong way. Up to Dingwall, then veer sharply northwest and then go around the highlands the whole day before hitting Wick in the evening. If we have time, I hope to see Dunnet's Head.
August 3: We'll spend some time at wonderful old Wick Museum in the morning, then down the coast by way of Badbea and Helmsdale and possibly even Black Isle before spending an hour at Culloden. Staying overnight in Inverness again.
August 4: Do Culloden iffin we didn't have the time yesterday. Onwards to Clava Cairn and Fort George. Maybe even the Dallas Dhu distillery, cuz it's run by Historic Scotland and so it's freeeeee. Spend the night in Elgin.
August 5: This is probably the most expensive day of the trip. We'll start out from Elgin in time to be at the Aberlour distillery for their 10 AM tour. Apparently it takes up to two hours. As you probably know, I don't drink, but distilleries are also an important part of Scotland's cultural and industrial history so I don't see the tour as a waste. Their web page announces that you'll have the "opportunity to hand-fill your own personalised bottle of Aberlour cask strength whisky", which, if I know my parents right, may take the place of an otherwise cheap bottle of tax-free vodka in my luggage. *sigh*
Additionally, we'll be spending the night at the most impressive Dalmunzie Castle, where we got their last room for a stomach churning £265 (much of it prepaid). But that's including a four-course dinner, so in the words of Joey Tribiani, "this is where I get my money back".
August 6-8: Not sure if we'll spend any more time in the wonderful Grampians on the 6th, but we're booked the next two nights in Edinburgh, at some rental apartment Siri found. So the 6th, the 7th and much of the 8th will be spent doing touristy stuff in Edinburgh. Holyrood Palace, Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh Castle, Scott Monument, National Museum, Canton Hill, etc, etc. One very interesting thing is that we've got tickets for the Military Tattoo on the 7th. Siri will fly home (or, if you want to be difficult about it, allow herself to be flown home in an airplane) and I will spend the night of the 8th in Linlithgow, just outside Edinburgh.
August 9-12: Havingfinally ditched the cow waved goodbye to my dear friend Siri, I'll set course south. I wish to spend a few hours at Linlithgow Palace and possibly also Blackness Castle but the main goal of this last weekend is the Borders area. I've booked a room in Selkirk for three nights, and plan on seeing as much old stuff, castles in ruins and old battlefields as I can cram into an oval weekend. During this part I might just cut into Engerland for a little while.
Imma fly home in the evening of Monday, August 12. Tuesday noon I've arranged for a tour of my new workplace and work will formally start on Wednesday 14, with three days of planning. Thebastards pupils will arrive Monday, August 19. My long, wonderful, over two year long holiday will be over for good... unless, of course (and this I pray for with every fiber of my non-believing body) I win the lottery. Then all bets (see what I did there?) are off.
As previously announced, this summer's trip will go to Scotland; possibly with a slight dip down into northern England for the last weekend, that part isn't fully planned yet. For almost the whole trip I shall be accompanied by my old
The route as of now...
July 29: Flying from Oslo to Edinburgh, landing in the evening. I'll rent a car and drive to Stirling, panicking over left-hand driving all the way.
July 30: I have hopes of doing Stirling Castle, the Wallace Monument and Bannockburn Visitor Centre this day. The actual Centre doesn't open till next year, but the intermediary one I went to last fall was so interesting I want to go again. If Siri really gets into Stirling Castle, we probably won't have time though. We shall spend the night in quaint little Doune, just up the road from Stirling.
July 31: Planning on seeing Doune Castle in the morning, then drive on up through the Trossachs, possibly with a slight detour south to see Loch Lomond. Then it's over my beloved A-82 and the Rannoch Moor to Glencoe. We'll be passing Bridge of Orchy and Loch Tulla and maybe, just maybe we'll have lunch at the King's House Hotel. We shall spend the night in Fort William.
August 1: In the wee morning we'll have a looksee at the ruins of Inverlochy Castle, and if Siri feels like it, possibly take a quick detour to Treasures of the Earth where she can fill several suitcases with shiny objects and precious gems. I know I wanted to the last time I was there. Then the journey will continue up along Loch Ness to Urquhart Castle, before ending in Inverness for the night.
August 2: This will probably be the longest day of the trip, at least where driving is concerned. I'm thinking about going up from Inverness to Wick the loooong way. Up to Dingwall, then veer sharply northwest and then go around the highlands the whole day before hitting Wick in the evening. If we have time, I hope to see Dunnet's Head.
August 3: We'll spend some time at wonderful old Wick Museum in the morning, then down the coast by way of Badbea and Helmsdale and possibly even Black Isle before spending an hour at Culloden. Staying overnight in Inverness again.
August 4: Do Culloden iffin we didn't have the time yesterday. Onwards to Clava Cairn and Fort George. Maybe even the Dallas Dhu distillery, cuz it's run by Historic Scotland and so it's freeeeee. Spend the night in Elgin.
August 5: This is probably the most expensive day of the trip. We'll start out from Elgin in time to be at the Aberlour distillery for their 10 AM tour. Apparently it takes up to two hours. As you probably know, I don't drink, but distilleries are also an important part of Scotland's cultural and industrial history so I don't see the tour as a waste. Their web page announces that you'll have the "opportunity to hand-fill your own personalised bottle of Aberlour cask strength whisky", which, if I know my parents right, may take the place of an otherwise cheap bottle of tax-free vodka in my luggage. *sigh*
Additionally, we'll be spending the night at the most impressive Dalmunzie Castle, where we got their last room for a stomach churning £265 (much of it prepaid). But that's including a four-course dinner, so in the words of Joey Tribiani, "this is where I get my money back".
August 6-8: Not sure if we'll spend any more time in the wonderful Grampians on the 6th, but we're booked the next two nights in Edinburgh, at some rental apartment Siri found. So the 6th, the 7th and much of the 8th will be spent doing touristy stuff in Edinburgh. Holyrood Palace, Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh Castle, Scott Monument, National Museum, Canton Hill, etc, etc. One very interesting thing is that we've got tickets for the Military Tattoo on the 7th. Siri will fly home (or, if you want to be difficult about it, allow herself to be flown home in an airplane) and I will spend the night of the 8th in Linlithgow, just outside Edinburgh.
August 9-12: Having
Imma fly home in the evening of Monday, August 12. Tuesday noon I've arranged for a tour of my new workplace and work will formally start on Wednesday 14, with three days of planning. The
Thursday, February 28, 2013
We apologize for the inconvenience...
Due to a soulcrushing lack of travel, this blog has slowly turned into a pure quote machine lately. That was not my intention, so I'mma try to liven things up a bit here. First, the good news... I've finally decided to at least use my time as an unemployed slob to try and lose some weight and get my blood sugar levels under 7.0 again.
Score success on both counts, as I had 6.9 at the doc's yesterday (against 8.9 three monts ago) and weighed in at 112.5 kg this morning. I hope to be back at my lowest in over ten years by reaching the much glorified 106.4 kg, which I attained in September 2011. Yes, money is not the only thing I've squandered these past 18 months...
On the downside I'm now in the market looking for a job. I'm a teacher by training, so that's where I'm looking first, and I've decided to try and go back to my old high school in the fall (I'm desperately looking for their job ads in the local paper every day... they're late). They've got a new principal and are in the process of rebuilding, so maybe things will be better than they were the last few years of my previous employment there. Also, there's nothing like a 3 year break to get the old motivation going again... wheeeeee!
Score success on both counts, as I had 6.9 at the doc's yesterday (against 8.9 three monts ago) and weighed in at 112.5 kg this morning. I hope to be back at my lowest in over ten years by reaching the much glorified 106.4 kg, which I attained in September 2011. Yes, money is not the only thing I've squandered these past 18 months...
On the downside I'm now in the market looking for a job. I'm a teacher by training, so that's where I'm looking first, and I've decided to try and go back to my old high school in the fall (I'm desperately looking for their job ads in the local paper every day... they're late). They've got a new principal and are in the process of rebuilding, so maybe things will be better than they were the last few years of my previous employment there. Also, there's nothing like a 3 year break to get the old motivation going again... wheeeeee!
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Öxararfoss
The time has finally come for pictures of the actual waterfall Öxararfoss, which flows with water from the river Öxara. Again, this river comes from the American tectonic plate and falls into a lake on the Eurasian tectonic plate (the previously mentioned Thingvallavatn). My head is spinning at the thought of it all. It is not a very big waterfall, but it is absolutely stunning in all its wintery prettiness, Have a looksee.
All pics here.
Sho, sho purdy.
View downstream.
So damn nice.
The higher fall. Note the pretty icicles.
Close up of the lower fall.
Lava rocks wrapped up in pretty, white clothing.
Lava rocks on the banks.
All pics here.
Sho, sho purdy.
View downstream.
So damn nice.
The higher fall. Note the pretty icicles.
Close up of the lower fall.
Lava rocks wrapped up in pretty, white clothing.
Lava rocks on the banks.
Walking between continents
After the visitor center, we drove on and very soon came to a sign for Öxararfoss, a place I'd read was possibly the best to see the rift between the continents. Allow me to elaborate a little more about this rift. Iceland is relatively young in a geological perspective; a mere 17 million years. It is made up of matter that has come out of the rift between the European and the North American tectonic plates over millions of years, and this rift goes through the whole country; it sort of straddles the two plates. In the area around Thingvellir it's very visible and probably nowhere more so than at Öxararfoss (axe falls).
Iceland is growing by a few millimeters every year, as earthquakes keep tearing the two continents apart and the area around Thingvellir is hit by minor quakes quite frequently. I am given to understand that it is a rather invigorating experience to stand between the continents when such a quake takes place (read: I'd soil myself with terror). In the following are pics from my walk to and from the waterfall, where you can see lots of cool canyon stuff. This island cries out for more movies!
All pics.
Overview of the whole 1 km walk to the waterfall.
View down the first canyon. That's Europe to the left and America to the right.
View back up the first canyon.
View of canyon number two. Again, Europe to the left and America to the right.
The very edge of the American continent rising up out of the ground. I'm getting goosebumps as I write this.
The last stretch to the waterfall is a wooden walkway through a third canyon.
In the middle of the picture sits a grouse. This is back at the first canyon.
I have no idea why the Icelanders put fences around their vast mountain areas. If anyone is so fucking stupid as to wander out there without taking the necessary precautions, it's Darwin's will, good people.
Iceland is growing by a few millimeters every year, as earthquakes keep tearing the two continents apart and the area around Thingvellir is hit by minor quakes quite frequently. I am given to understand that it is a rather invigorating experience to stand between the continents when such a quake takes place (read: I'd soil myself with terror). In the following are pics from my walk to and from the waterfall, where you can see lots of cool canyon stuff. This island cries out for more movies!
All pics.
Overview of the whole 1 km walk to the waterfall.
View down the first canyon. That's Europe to the left and America to the right.
View back up the first canyon.
View of canyon number two. Again, Europe to the left and America to the right.
The very edge of the American continent rising up out of the ground. I'm getting goosebumps as I write this.
The last stretch to the waterfall is a wooden walkway through a third canyon.
In the middle of the picture sits a grouse. This is back at the first canyon.
I have no idea why the Icelanders put fences around their vast mountain areas. If anyone is so fucking stupid as to wander out there without taking the necessary precautions, it's Darwin's will, good people.
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